


Alternate: The Details of Revenge

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Series: Details Multiverse [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Brutal Torture, Caregiver Anakin, Cyborg Obi-Wan, Gen, Loyal Anakin, No Onscreen Torture, Obi-Wan Feels Numb and Angry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 21:12:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15081830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Obi-Wan survived Grievous' brutal torture, but he doesn't feel the same as before.





	Alternate: The Details of Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> While this story is *not* Details of Revenge, it will lean into referencing those things. Obi-Wan discovering his new metal limbs and hating them, depression, Obi-Wan feeling emotionally numb, Obi-Wan saying cruel things because his brain-to-mouth filter isn't functioning, etc.
> 
> Anakin is trying his best to be supportive, and I suppose the ending has the possibility of hope? I'm not sure I should label it as a sad ending, but it's not really a bittersweet or happy ending either. Just... beware the ending.

 

“How do you feel?”

Obi-Wan sighed. _That_ question again. “About how you'd expect.”

“Okay.” Anakin's voice sounded strained. “Okay. I'm going to touch your ankles, going to guide your feet off the side of the bed.”

Obi-Wan grit his teeth as he prepared—

Anakin's touch was gentle, careful, as if that would eliminate the panic—

Obi-Wan sat up and edged closer, heard the tap of metal against tile as his toes touched the floor.

He recoiled in horror.

_ Grievous doesn't kill me, he turns me  _ into  _ him— _

“You're okay,” Anakin crooned. “You're doing great. Can you feel the floor?”  
Obi-Wan _ could,  _ in a strange,  _ off  _ way. The floor felt  _ cold,  _ it felt  _ hard _ , he knew it was  _ there—  _ but there was still something  _ different—  _ “Yes.”  
“I'm going to take your shoulders, and you're going to stand up slowly. Go as slow as you need.”

It took Obi-Wan a long moment to scrape together the will to attempt it. And then Anakin's hands were there, almost not touching him, barely brushing against his arms, ready to catch him, steady him—

_ And what if I fall farther than the floor? Would you catch me then? _

He perched precariously on his new feet, his sense of balance slightly off. Being unable to see didn't help, but Obi-Wan was  _ not  _ ready for new eyes yet. Too much new already, as it was. 

His knees  _ hurt _ .

Hell, his entire lower leg  _ hurt,  _ hurt  _ terribly— _

“What is it?”

“Phantom pain. And my knees.”

“Do you feel stable?”  
Ha. The double meaning in the question  _ could  _ be read as amusing, but Obi-Wan was feeling cynical enough that the inner smirk rang hollow.

“Yes. If I take a step I'm going to tread on you.”

Anakin shifted position, moving to stand beside him, hooking an arm through his. His  _ right  _ arm, Obi-Wan thought distantly, feeling the light brush of metal.

Anakin had taken to leaving his glove off when he visited his former Master. Obi-Wan suspected it was to attempt to reassure Obi-Wan, that it was okay, that he'd walked this road before, that he would  _ help  _ him the way Obi-Wan had helped  _ him— _

It was sweet. Intellectually, Obi-Wan knew that. It was the epitome of the Jedi way, that compassion and subtle kindness.

And Obi-Wan felt absolutely  _ nothing  _ in response.

Obi-Wan lifted a leg, went to set it down again, found it struck flat.

“Heel, outside of foot, ball to big toe,” Anakin encouraged.

“I know how to  _ walk, _ ” Obi-Wan growled.

Anakin lightly squeezed his bicep. “You'll have to relearn.”

He spoke truth. Anakin had struggled to grip delicate things without crushing or dropping them at first. It took him time to adjust.

He took another step and  _ tripped. _ A curse escaped his lips as Anakin braced him.

“You're okay,” Anakin soothed as Obi-Wan trembled and panted. “They're a centimeter longer than your legs were.”

“ _ Why _ ?”

“I can give you that information. How much detail do you want?”

_ Hell. I'm one of the droids he likes to tinker with now. _

They would return to the war, Anakin would bring spare parts for  _ Obi-Wan  _ now— “As little detail as possible.”

“To fit the best tech in there, it needed a little extra room.”

“At least I'm the latest model,” Obi-Wan muttered. “Are they bright red with racing stripes too?”  
He sensed a little hurt in Anakin, but he could observe no regret in himself.

_ I'm fripped. _

“Want to try another step?” Anakin asked, no hint of resentment in his voice.

_ When did he become so mature? Last time I looked, he never let an opportunity to fight pass. _

_ Apparently when you take me out he steps up. _

_Hell. Should have tried it years ago._

He took another step, trying to manipulate the limbs enough to press the heel down first. He failed. How hard was it supposed to  _ be— _ ?

“You're doing well.  _ Really  _ well,” Anakin praised. “We'll turn around, slowly, and head back. Then we can do hand exercises.”

Obi-Wan hadn't felt  _ this  _ uncoordinated since his early teens.

If only Bruck could see him now. Oafy-Wan indeed.

Bruck.

His first kill.

Accident though it may have been.

Obi-Wan dimly remembered the trauma he'd passed through, the grief, horror, dismay—

And then he wondered how many people he'd killed since then, and why he didn't feel anything anymore.  _ Guess Satine was right about me.  _ Even if she  _ had  _ retracted her statement.

“Hey,” Anakin said softly. “I can't read your mind, but it's feeling dark and heavy in there.”

Obi-Wan didn't dignify that with a response.

“You're walking again,” Anakin murmured.

“I'm  _ staggering, _ ” Obi-Wan corrected, “like some cruel scientist's creation.”  
Again, a small flare of hurt. “Is that how you see me?” Anakin whispered.

Something inside him should be screaming at him to reassure the child of his heart. It wasn't.

“No.” He sounded spectacularly false, even in his own ears.

And then another thought struck him, and it spilled from his lips without thought, “You're the scientist.”

Anakin was silent as he helped Obi-Wan sit again. Obi-Wan tried to raise his feet to the bed but couldn't manage it. Panic seized his throat.

Anakin's voice was there, calming again, “It's okay. I'll help you, Obi-Wan. Breathe deep.”

Obi-Wan struggled to obey as Anakin lifted his ankles to the bed again.

“Are you comfortable? How do you want them?”

_ Gone. I want it all gone. _

“It's fine. Leave it.”

For a long moment Anakin didn't say anything, and then the bed dipped slightly with his weight as he sat. “I said terribly hurtful things while I was recovering from Geonosis. Didn't I.”  
Well, yes, but Obi-Wan didn't really give a kark at the moment, so why not leave that as water under the bridge?

“I felt so hopeless, and useless, and stuff that used to take no thought or effort took  _ tremendous  _ focus and pain. You were so kind to me, Obi-Wan. You never once raised your voice, never once blamed me for complaining, you endured  _ so much. _ ”

Had he?

Good for him. Or something.

His hand was lifted, pressed to Anakin's lips. “It's my turn,” he whispered. “Goodnight, Master.”

 

 


End file.
